


Redemption

by Crazynumnums



Category: Daybreak (TV)
Genre: Aftermath, F/M, Gen, Ghoulies, Redemption, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 14:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21357670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazynumnums/pseuds/Crazynumnums
Summary: It's a long and arduous journey back to happiness for Josh, who, despite the support from his friends, is really struggling to cope. Despite the death of many friends, the betrayal of... well, he doesn't even know what she was, anymore, he bounces back.Nah, that's bullshit. He's completely fucked.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Redemption

**Author's Note:**

> Written by a male author who doesn't actually hate Sam Dean as many people do, but simply remembers that the same sort of thing happened to Turbo before the events of the show, and nobody hates him. Also, this is not what I hope will happen. I hope that the show churns out something that is far better than anything I could write.

_I am here._

Yep. I'm going back to that shitty tagline. Rejuvenation of our society has been somewhat stalled by the tyranny of--

Oh, fuck this. I'm not in the mood for the fourth wall.

* * *

He was allowed to keep the apartment.

In fairness to Samaira (because he refused to call her Sam anymore), her leadership wasn't as tyrannical or... _bloodthirsty_, or... _evil_, or... _terrifying_, as Turbo's had been. There was a small amount of civilisation.

On the other hand, anyone who hadn't bowed down to her immediately was cast out of the mall. Which meant all the events of Baron Triumph came down to nothing. Wesley, Turbo, Angelica, Josh... the streets were their home again. Josh was tempted to live by his own rules, go skirting off away from everyone and everything.

But he couldn't do that. He at least had some semblance of loyalty.

Not that he was bitter.

And the apartment still had plenty of food in it. Of course, they couldn't all stay there, it was far too small, but there were places around where people could stay. Angelica and Crumble housed together like mentally unstable mother and sociopathic daughter. Wesley and Turbo housed together, unsurprisingly, and Josh was invited to stay with them, which he turned down, unsurprisingly.

But they could still live together. In relative peace, that was.

Live was objectively good. And while Josh felt like shit now, the way he was living was sure to improve that.

* * *

Until it stopped being objectively good. The only problem with the two new 'tribes' ignoring one another's existence was that both groups were missing something. They were both struggling in some aspects. Daybreak's problem was food. And of course, they couldn't ask for it.

"WE can go in and steal it. Us three, just like old times." Wesley is enthusiastic about the idea, and it doesn't take long for Angelica to get on board. "Come on, it's not like they're going to kill us. There's no American Ninja Idol anymore."

Josh isn't sure whether he's up to the task, but he reluctantly agrees. And that concern is possibly what caused their downfall. Something's wrong with them. They can't work in tandem like they used to anymore. Angelica slips a little, but unlike previous times, where Wesley or Josh would have been there to catch her, neither of them sees it coming.

And then all of Samaira's tribe sees _them_ coming (from the looks of things, they'd been unable to think of a name as amazing as Daybreak. So that was at least one thing they were winning. The all-important nickname battles).

Josh genuinely half-expects death to fall upon him in a swift blow. And what really turns his stomach is that he's kind of indifferent towards the idea. He even welcomes it, maybe. But Samaira isn't that merciful.

"What the fuck are you doing back here, Josh?"

"We need food, Samaira. We can't find any, you've taken it all."

"What's with this 'Samaira'? Can't call me 'Sam' anymore? Your little, perfect Sam Dean?" Josh tries not to flinch at the way she says that, because the more often she says that, the more he starts to believe it.

"Please. Samaira, we're starving."

"I'll give you some, if you call me Sam again."

"No."

"No food for you then."

Josh sighs. "Can I sign it, instead?"

Samaira, perhaps sensing that he wasn't going to break, nodded. "Okay. Fine."

Josh nods, and spells out his message. F-U-C-K-Y-O-U. He doesn't bank on one of the onlookers knowing what he's saying, though, and for that he does receive actual, physical violence, an outraged slap to the face.

Wesley and Angelica are both incensed as they walk back to their respective homes. "All you had to do was say her name, man! It's not difficult!"

"Fuck! Yeah, it is! Because every time I hear that name, it's a reminder of every fucking time _I said that name_. Every time I hear it, it hits me like a tidal wave."

Wesley's house is the closest, and soon it's just Josh and Angelica. With privacy around them, Angelica finally speaks. "You still feel something for her."

Josh smiles ruefully, and shakes his head. "Nah. Didn't you hear her? I feel something for the idea of her. Not for her."

Angelica says nothing. She doesn't need to say anything, when a simple squeeze of the shoulder will do.

* * *

Multiple failed attempts follow that one, and each time, the same interaction occurs. Samaira trying to provoke him into saying her shortened name, and Josh refusing. Eventually they just stop trying to steal food. It clearly isn't working, and is just wasting time and resources, which makes them even hungrier.

Josh perches on the curb, and Wesley comes over to sit by him. In silence. Until Josh speaks. "Sorry for fucking up the heists."

"It's not your fault, man. They're just too strong."

"No, it is my fault. Look, before everything that happened, I had a goal. I was going to save Samaira. I think that sometimes, it got to the point where I cared more about whether I had a goal than whether I cared about her. Guess she was right about me, huh?"

"You don't choose your feelings, Josh. Who knew she'd turn out to be like... this?"

Josh shrugs, and takes off for a walk. He walks with his head down, his earbuds in, but a sharp sound pierces that joyous bubble where he doesn't have to feel anything. He looks behind him, and sees a Ghoulie on the ground, an arrow sticking out of its neck. A masked figure stands just ten paces away. Josh tenses as they walk up to him, but all that happens is the transaction of three post-it notes.

_"Be more careful. I won't be around to save you next time, Arse-Licker."_

To be fair, he did tick that box on the consent app.

The person is clearly not her. They're a lot taller, and lacking certain... assets... They're a dude. And Josh wouldn't have expected her to come this far away from the mall anyway. But the note is clearly from her. And the message is there.

_I'm watching you._

* * *

The next month progresses without incident. Food production begins a slight uptick, Crumble continues to improve, and life generally is fantastic for them. Until Josh is woken in the middle of the night by two rough hands grabbing his shoulders. "Get up," says Mona, her harsh voice coming in painful waves thanks to the contrast of the silent night.

"How the fuck--"

"Lock pick. You need to get that sorted. Now move. Or I'll wipe out all your Daybreakers." Daybreakers. Josh makes a note of that. That's a good descriptive term.

He's dragged in front of Samaira, who looks him up and down. "You look thinner."

"Thanks?" Josh is, somehow, even more confused than before. "But you'll do." Oh, so it wasn't a compliment. "I've got some things that need moving. Move them for me, and I won't enslave anyone from Daybreak."

"Aren't you enslaving me?"

"I won't enslave _anyone else_ from Daybreak."

This is the moment that really gets to Josh. Because it's clear that Samaira has only dragged him out here for her own pleasure. There's no boxes that need moving. She's simply transformed into a full blown sadist. The boxes are needlessly heavy, and he's not allowed to stop until... well, until they say so.

At first, he's only dragged out to the mall once a week. Then, eventually, it transitions to twice a week. Then three times. And it isn't too long before Josh finds himself being taken every single night. The lack of sleep is starting to show; bags form under his eyes, and he gets even skinnier than usual. Apparently that's possible. He's sure that everyone notices; but the only one willing to say anything about it is Crumble.

"You look tired, Josh." One good thing that's been occurring recently is Crumble's continued improvement. It seems that every other day Angelica is telling him about something else that she's done, something else that signals that she's getting better. Maybe.

"Yeah, a little. I've been having trouble sleeping."

"Is this because Mona Lisa keeps taking you away?"

Josh nearly falls off the bench he's sitting on. "What? How did you know?"

"I can't sleep either. Sometimes I see you. But I don't help. I think that if it was something you needed help with, you'd ask."

_You don't know how wrong you are._ "Who else knows?"

"Just me. Do you want everyone else to know?"

"God, no. Leave the topic alone, don't tell anyone, and especially don't try and stop Mona." Crumble nods, vigorously, and Josh sighs in relief. He hates being that terrible cliche movie trope; that he's sacrificing himself to protect the others. But he has to.

* * *

Until one day Mona doesn't come. His body wakes itself up, because at this point, his internal clock is used to the trips. But his apartment is completely bare. Something is wrong.

He walks out into the street, in the middle of the night. His senses are heightened, struggling to pick out anything that he could possibly hear, or see, or anything.

But it's all darkness.

"HEY!!" he shouts, and one by one the residents around him start filing out of their residences. "I think something's going on at the mall."

"How on earth would you know that?" Wesley is skeptical, and a little indifferent, and Josh doesn't blame him.

"There's something I haven't been telling you." And he explains it. The things that he's being forced to do, simply to ensure that the rest of them stay okay. How eventually, they stopped the pretense that he was doing some sort of 'important work for them, and just started beating him, prodding him. How he was losing sleep, not just due to the midnight trips, but due to the nightmares that he was enduring, waiting for some sort of punishment to occur.

After he finishes, he looks at them, terrified. And their reaction is what he expected; most of them are okay with the mall dying. Some people start heading back to their houses. "Wait! We need to help."

"Why? Let the fuckers die!" It's clear that Angelica's sentiment is shared by many of them.

"Because we're better than those savages and should help whoever's in need, regardless of personal differences?" he tries, but Angelica looks unimpressed. "Fine. Because with them gone, the Ghoulies are more likely to start attacking us."

"Yep, that's good enough for me. Let's bash some brains in!"

They travel as fast as they can. KJ has elected to carry the only gun they have: Josh doesn't use guns, Wesley doesn't use guns, and Angelica is too small to carry one. Not that any of them would have felt comfortable with Angelica holding the most dangerous weapon they own. Fire is more than enough for that girl to do her damage.

The problem with the mall is easy to spot. The front door is open. Josh almost hopes that the person who left it open was eaten by Ghoulies; it might be better than the alternative punishment that Samaira and Mona would come up with. They kill off a few stragglers outside the mall, and enter quietly.

Ghastly screams echo along the corridors, and it begs the question; how many Ghoulies are there? The mall tribe is pretty huge, but it still sounds like they're losing the battle.

With the added bodies of the Daybreakers, though, the tide of the battle begins to turn. Josh spots Samaira out of the corner of her eye; her mouth is opened, evidently confused as to why he has come to help her. As if he knows that answer. He turns away from her, because just the sight of her face is really pissing him off. At least it's giving him a little rage, which adds more adrenaline to his body.

Eventually, the last Ghoulie is chopped down. The floor is covered with them, but it isn't just Ghoulie bodies that litter the ground.

Josh guesses that about 50% of the mall tribe was killed.

* * *

"You're bat-shit insane, woman! What the fuck is wrong with you?" Angelica says everything that she can to insult Samaira, short of actually hitting her, because despite how little she cared about having better morals than the young woman in front of her, she didn't figure Josh would appreciate it. "Did you suddenly grow a dick, because you're turning into olden-days Turbo!"

"Okay, thanks, Angelica. Could you leave us alone, for a little?"

"Fine, but you'd better not be fucking her when I get back."

"That isn't going to happen." Angelica nods, and leaves the room, giving them privacy. Sam is stretched across a bed, resting, in an effort to regain her energy. Josh places himself delicately down beside her, and she looks up at him.

"Are you sure we can't fuck? Because--"

"Shut up, Samaira. For once in your life, let someone else talk." Uncharacteristically, she does keep quiet. "Sorry. Sorry about that."

The look on her face clearly indicates that she has no idea why he's the one apologising. "I told myself I wasn't going to yell. I'll try not to from now. Look, you got power hungry. You know that. Everyone knows that. But that isn't the problem with you. Everyone gets power hungry. I did, when I forced Wes, Angelica, Eli..." He pauses a moment, remembering the teen.

"Look, what was it that you said to me, after we fired the rocket? That I was in love with some antiquated notion of you being a damsel in distress? Maybe I was at first. But definitely not at the end. And if you'd let me speak instead of going off the deep end just to prove you didn't need rescuing, you could've seen that too. And none of this would have happened."

"What are you saying, Josh? That it's my fault that they're all dead?"

"No. I'm saying that your fantasies are infinitely worse than mine. We're all idealists, Samaira. Yeah, maybe I had some fantasy that I could rescue some 'damsel in distress'. But I understood pretty quickly that I wasn't going to get that with you. And I was more than happy to accept that. Your fantasy, on the other hand... you live off the thought of being unpredictable. Of nobody ever knowing what you're going to do next. So when I came along, and understood you better than anyone, you fucking hated that."

"Let me ask you something: if you thought I was never in love with you, but I loved the idea of you, why stay with me? Why not dump me whenever you got the chance?"

"I..."

"It's because you knew you were wrong. And you couldn't live with that. So whenever I told you I loved you, you spazzed the fuck out. The first time, in the pool, you launched into a rant about how I'm just some sort of misogynistic prick, how I could never love you. And the last time... well, we know what happened there. You did love me. But you couldn't handle being so committed."

"Josh, I really am sorry. I just... look, you're right. I couldn't live with that. I let the fantasies get in the way of my morals. But I was right. They needed a leader."

"They needed a leader. Not a dictator." Samaira's head bowed down, with embarrassment. "You need rest. I'm gonna leave now."

Josh moved to exit the room, but her voice stopped him. "Hey?"

"Yeah?"

"Is there any chance for... for us?"

She looked so innocent in the moment, Josh nearly forgot everything she'd done to him previously. But he didn't forget. He wouldn't ever forget. He sighed. "Maybe one day, Sam."

Her ears pricked up at the sound of her name in its shortened fashion, but Josh didn't see it. He was already gone. In his place, was a single post-it note with a small message written on it. A message with so much more meaning now than when he started using it,

_I am here._

**Author's Note:**

> I told you I didn't hate Sam! I mean, I might hate her in the future, depending on what the second season brings, but right now... she's okay.
> 
> Also, as a side note, I really, _really_ wish that they hadn't killed off Eli. He was such a breath of fresh air whenever he was on screen, I'm really going to miss him.


End file.
